Documentaries
have a bad reputation for being boring, and there are times that sitting
through films filled with talking-head interviews that I have found reason to
agree. Then there are the non-fiction films so captivating that it only feels
like a matter of time before some wise filmmaker adapts the narrative into a
screenplay. The Seven Five has enough
excitement to match a Martin Scorsese crime film, somehow enhanced by the
larger-than-life personalities of the actual men involved in the scandal. If
Scorsese can make white collar crime seem exciting in The Wolf of Wall Street, the story of crooked New York City police officer Michael Dowd
would be a walk in the park, although I can’t imagine many actors able to be as
captivating as the man himself.

Everything has
meaning in a Krzysztof Kieślowski film, making repeat viewings a near
necessity. Even with dozens of viewings, much of Kieślowski’s work is
increasingly rewarding due to his ability to layer the films with carefully
constructed themes and ideas. As well orchestrated as these narrative films
are, it might be difficult to believe that Kieślowski began in documentary
filmmaking, though he clearly carried over a social and political consciousness
from this early work. Blind Chance is
one of Kieślowski’s early narrative films, despite its release being delayed
six years due to some of the content. Not only was he daring in the
socio-political commentary made about communist Poland, Kieślowski’s experiments in
storytelling were ahead of the times even when Blind Chance was eventually released in 1987.

It is something
of a cinematic miracle that such a successful action franchise was built from
the mildly amusing racing film from 2001. What began as a blatant Point Break rip-off could have easily
died with its awful sequel, and it nearly did when major cast members started
removing themselves from the franchise. Vin Diesel excused himself from the
first sequel, replaced by a nonsensical backstory to provide Paul Walker’s
character with a new sidekick (Tyrese Gibson), and then the entire cast was
scrapped along with the undercover cop narrative in favor of a more direct
racing film in Tokyo.
When this film was a surprise success, suddenly the old cast returned to revive
some of the old dynamics, but by the fifth film in the series it was no longer
about racing or undercover cops. The franchise started added characters rather
than losing them and the cars were used for carrying out action-heavy heists
rather than drag racing.

I can see all of
the influences that inspired Redeemer,
but even the imitation of well-made action movies isn’t enough to create
something worthwhile and original. Fans of brutal and bloody action
choreography may enjoy moments of the spectacle, but the amount of time spent
on the filmmaking process isn’t equally distributed beyond these sequences of
violence. Nearly every other aspect of storytelling is sacrificed in favor of
creativity in the deaths and the showcasing of lead actor Marko Zaror’s martial
arts abilities.